


Momma Sed

by ExpressAndAdmirable



Series: The Heroes of Light [34]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Dungeons & Dragons - All Media Types, Final Fantasy I
Genre: Angst, Backstory, F/M, First Time, Gen, Parent-Child Relationship, Tiefling, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-25 19:12:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13219368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ExpressAndAdmirable/pseuds/ExpressAndAdmirable
Summary: Esperance is not always the best with words, especially when her daughter is in distress.





	Momma Sed

Well. That was a mistake.

Aviva flipped the stopper off the bottle of wine and poured a large glass. Returning to her bedroom, she dragged her chair to the window and opened the shutters, letting in a gust of cool evening air. For a moment she considered climbing out onto the roof, but she’d already poured the wine. Setting the glass on the wide windowsill, she retrieved a cigarette from her box and fumbled for a match. The window was her workaround to her mother’s rule against smoking inside; it was her own bedroom, and it was _almost_ outside, so it would do. She picked up her oud and sat heavily in the chair, slouching into the curve of the wood and swinging her bare feet up onto the sill. Her eyes hurt. She was so, so tired.

It was his neutrality that had caught her attention more than his looks. A recent arrival from Pravoka, he was not overtly friendly, but he did not immediately scorn her, and that was a marked improvement over her longtime classmates. That alone made him different. Her attraction to him actually surprised her, as the majority of her idle thoughts were filled with appreciation for the female form. The girls at her school were just as cruel as the boys, if not moreso, but at least they were worth looking at. But this boy, a single dumb Human among scores of others, intrigued her.

What was even more surprising was that he seemed interested as well. When they spoke, he addressed her as a person rather than a monster, and even such common decency made her blush. Still raw and reeling from the Old Man’s death, she carried a void deep within her, an emptiness in her heart she could not fully fathom. She yearned to connect, to trust, to let herself be open to another, if only once. More than anything, she wanted to feel alive. So, on an afternoon when her mother was out, she had invited the boy to the flat above the shop.

Rushed. Graceless. Flustered. A rhapsody of mutual inexperience. A tangle of sheets and sweat and breath, kisses too hard, indelicate touches that still crashed like lightning through their bodies. It had made her feel good. It had made her feel safe. But the feeling was short-lived.

Sometime after darkness fell and the lamplighters had made their rounds, the back door of the shop opened. Soft leather boots ascended the stairs to the flat, followed by Esperance’s voice. “V? Are you home? Goodness, but it’s dark. V?”

“I’m home, mama.” Her voice sounded distant to her ears. Hollow. Blinking, she realised she had been staring at nothing; she did not know when her fingers had ceased their movement on the strings. She stood and set her oud on its stand, padding to the doorway and leaning against the frame. The glass in her hand was nearly empty.

Esperance started to smile when Aviva appeared, but the warm greeting died on her lips when she saw her daughter’s face. “V? Baby? What’s wrong?”

Aviva chewed her lip, looking down at the last of the wine in her glass. “I… I think I fucked up.”

Her mother’s face paled, but to her credit, that was the extent of her reaction. “What do you mean?” Her tone was cautious, careful. “What happened?”

“I brought someone home.”

“You brought someone home…?” Esperance’s eyes narrowed in confusion as she glanced around the flat. There was no rule against visitors, though they were incredibly rare. “Are they here now?”

Finishing the wine, Aviva shook her head. “No, not anymore.”

“V, I don’t understand. Are you okay?”

“I had sex with him.”

Esperance’s frown deepened. “Baby, why are you telling me this? How did you fuck up? Who was he?”

Suddenly, Aviva was weeping. “He was a boy from school and he was nice to me and I took him to bed and it seemed like a good idea and when it was over he told me it how fun it was to _fuck a demon_ –” Her words dissolved into sobs and she pressed a hand over her mouth.

For a moment Esperance simply stood, utterly dumbfounded by the weight of her daughter’s words. Then she snapped back to reality, rushing across the room and wrapping the taller girl in her arms. They sank to the floor, clinging to each other, leaning heavily against the doorframe. She stroked her hair, whispering words of comfort in their native tongue, and when the tears had mostly subsided, she coaxed Aviva to one of the kitchen chairs and sat her down. She stoked the fire in the hearth and set the kettle on its hook, then eased herself into the chair across the table. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Aviva shrugged miserably, setting her empty glass on the table and wiping her eyes. After a few shuddering breaths, she found her voice again. “He was new at school and he was nice to me. He treated me like a person. And I dunno, I just… I wanted to. It seemed like he liked me. But then he just… dropped the act. Thanked me for a great time, and–” She paused, her breath catching in her throat. “And told me how lucky I’d made him. He achieved a life goal before finishing school.” Her words became dagger sharp. “He’d always wanted to fuck a demon.”

Wincing visibly as she stood to prepare the tea, Esperance was at a loss. That phrase would be seared into her daughter’s mind, a wound that would scar but never completely heal. Her heart ached. “Was he your first?” she asked softly.

Looking dully at the table, Aviva nodded.

Esperance submerged the tea strainers into two mugs and brought them to the table. She started to speak, paused, tried again. She sighed. “I don’t know what to say. I’m so sorry, sweet pea. There’s so much malice in the world… It shouldn’t fall on you. I wish I could make it all go away. You deserve so, so much better.”

“Yeah, well.” Aviva leaned back in the chair, shielding her lips behind her mug. “He won’t be coming back, at least.”

“What do you mean?” Esperance cocked her head, searching Aviva’s expression with concern. “You didn’t… do anything to him, did you?”

Aviva blinked in shock, her face going slack and then contorting into indignant fury as Esperance realised her error. “ _Do_ anything? Like what, mama? Hurt him? Hex him? Unleash my dark and terrible nature on him?!”

Esperance bit her lip, wishing to all the gods she could take back her question. “Oh, baby, no, I didn’t–”

“Didn’t you?” Aviva snapped. “That’s what you always think about, isn’t it? My dark side coming out? My inner fiend? Whatever hellish forces work through our bloodline? I yelled at him to get the fuck out and never talk to me again, what did you _think_ I would do?!”

“I’m sorry,” her mother replied desperately, “I didn’t mean it like that, I was just worried–”

“Worried!” Aviva scoffed. “Of course you were! You’re always worried, for them! You’re always watching, always waiting for me to release whatever the fuck is inside me! It doesn’t matter how many times _I_ get hurt, as long as I don’t hurt _them_!”

“Aviva, you’re not even seventeen, you don’t understand–”

Aviva laughed mirthlessly, and once again Esperance bitterly regretted her word choice. “I don’t understand. Is that so, mama? Do you know why I don’t understand? Because the only thing you’ve taught me is to be terrified of what I am! What we are! You always tell me not to prove them right, but _you never say they’re wrong_!” Her eyes bored into her mother, burning in the light from the hearth’s fire. “So, am I? Am I evil? Am I the abomination they all say I am?! Are we all?! Are you? Was papa? Is our whole fucking race just out to inflict evil on the world, like godsforsaken boogeymen? If that’s true, why bother trying to fight it? Why don’t I just give in already and save you the trouble of trying to _save_ me?!”

Esperance recoiled, stung. “Baby, I barely know you right now. What’s gotten into you?”

“Cock, mostly.”

“ _Aviva_!”

Abruptly, Aviva shoved her chair back and stood. “I’m going to bed.” She snatched her mug from the table. “I’ll try not to eat any babies on my way there.”

Speechless, Esperance watched her stalk to her bedroom and slam the door behind her. For a few long moments, she stared at the wood, the light of the hearth making dancing, flickering patterns across the boards. Her mind reeled. Aviva was not generally known for such fits of passion; in fact, she had always been a quiet child, calm and reserved unless pushed to the edge. Esperance rested her elbows on the table and pinched the bridge of her nose. Her daughter _had_ been pushed, by this horrid boy and by her own clumsy words. She had been wronged and she was in pain and there was so much she did not understand. It was not the boy’s safety Esperance cared about; after the way he’d treated her girl, he could fall off a bridge for all she cared. The darkness was not inside Aviva, but it _was_ watching, and gods only knew when it planned to strike.

Esperance sighed deeply, rising from her chair. Nothing more to be done tonight. She would apologise in the morning.

Pressing her back against the door and sliding downwards until she reached the floor, Aviva set her mug on the ground and covered her face with her hands. She knew her mother loved her more than life, and that she had never been particularly good with words, but there was so much she did not understand. She was supposed to be the one person who wouldn’t judge, wouldn’t taunt and jeer. She was supposed to be safe. But she had assumed the worst, if only for a moment, and that hurt so much more than any vicious words. As the rage subsided, replaced by a familiar numbness, Aviva watched the curtains moving in the faint evening breeze.

Maybe it had just been a poorly worded question. Or maybe…

She shook her head, clearing away the darkening thoughts. Nothing more to be done tonight. She would apologise in the morning.

_Well. That was a mistake._

**Author's Note:**

> Title song by Puscifer.
> 
> Follow me on Tumblr at @expressandadmirable for a proper table of contents for the Heroes campaign, commissioned character art, text-based roleplay snippets and more!


End file.
